


There Is Nothing

by Holy_Leonards



Category: Fallout 4, Scary Stories to Tell In The Dark - Fandom
Genre: Always, And Our Love, And Probably Body Horror, Crack, Death, Glory Hole, God Bless America - Freeform, Hey, I give it a 10/10, Immurement, M/M, Magic Glory Hole, Marriage, Multi, Patriotism, Potential Lawsuit [Not Really][[Maybe]], Psychic Sex, Rad Storm, The Government Ruining Our Lives, View Of Afterlife, [DRAGNET THEME], a lot happens, and, and a happy new year, as, but that's just me, i warned you, probably blasphemy, trust me - Freeform, viewer discretion is advised, worth a read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 22:23:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7775953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holy_Leonards/pseuds/Holy_Leonards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Actually, there is something. I assure you that the title is not in reference to the fact that the fic is literally nothing. There is a fanfic here. It involves some travelling and storms and marriage. All the fun things in life. But also, some of the sad things. Like the Government ruining our lives. Very dynamic, very tasteful, very adult.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Is Nothing

There is Nothing.

  
  


"We've been walking for hours. I don't think it exists anymore," Nick said, hopelessly. He knew the other two knew this. This wasn't going to stop them.

"Shut up, cockbot," said Poppy.

Nick still couldn't believe not one, but two asshole popsicles crawled out from a vault. Poppy was actually from 111. Nate? He was from Vault 2. Bastard was trying to reach the last fudgesicle. You can probably guess the rest.

"Maybe we should take a break?" Valentine eyed the sweat dripping off both of them. "I don't need to rest, but-"

"Can it, Can!" Poppy said, pulling a travel mug out of her bag, and scooping the thick gel of bodily fluid off her skin. "Waste not, want not," she said, before chugging it.

"ew're hear ir! i gan feel it," Nate said. His freezer burn tongue making him hard to understand.

"Huh?" Nick placed his hand over his (lie) 'ear.'

Poppy translated. "He said we're close."

Realization hit Nick "You two having psychic sex again?"

"No! Well, yes. A little bit." An invisible force quickly zipped her blue suit back up. "That's not what Nate meant. We've almost reached our hometown."

Nick looked around. For miles, there was nothing but barren dust. "You sure?"

"autely positutivel."

Nick looked to Poppy. She shrugged.

There was a bang. The air crackled with electricity, as a green fog rolled in.

"Dammit!"

"Dammit!"

"Dannit!"

"What did he say?"

The trio picked up their pace.

"I have nothing: no Radaway, no Rad-X." Poppy's voice, more frantic with each word. "I used it all when I was--" She cleared her throat. "I was entertaining a very nice group of women, who just so happened to be an all-ghoul band."

They moved quickly, looking for somewhere to take cover. Even the geiger counters' clicks picked up speed.

Nate ran face first into a building.

"You okay, Nate," Nick asked.

The man turned around.

"Oh, God! Nate!"

"ugaw?"

"There's a giant splinter in your face!"

There was a giant splinter in his face.

To Nate's horror, there was a giant splinter in his face. His cheek, to be exact. It was about as thick as a soda can. The splinter, I mean.

He tongued the sharp end in his mouth. Grit already all over his teeth. He spit, but more moldy wood broke off. Again, he slid his tongue over the intrusion, slicing the muscle off.

"It's been a while since I've had this much wood in my mouth," he said through a mouth full of blood.

Nick and Poppy gasped.

"What?"

"You can talk," they said in unison.

He could talk?

A talking Nate!

"My freezer burn tongue must be remedied!" He opened his mouth, revealing that the wood had mended together, forming a peg-tongue.

"Good, because that was annoying."

"The communication barrier between two lovers?" The prosthetic clicking against Nate's teeth.

"No, having no one to talk to besides Poppy."

Canned laughter.

[Seinfeld Theme]

Canned screaming.

The front door swung open. "Nate? Poppy? Is that really you?"

They got an eyeful of wrinkled, 300 year old man candy. His clothes had disintegrated over the harsh post-bomb years.

"Geez, Harold. I thought you were old back then, but this," Poppy vaguely gestured with her hands.

"Who is this?" The synth's brain hurt from all this thinking.

"A scarecrow from the neighborhood. He came to life. We used to party hardy with him. Go to bars, and... well, just the bar."

"We hung out a lot. I was 23-ish? He was 100." Nate added, "What can I say?" He wrapped his arm around Nick. "I got a thing for erectile dysfunction and father figures. And geezers." Nate dragged his wooden tongue up Valentine's face, clicky clack down his metal interior.

"You sound like someone dragging a stick down a fence," said Poppy.

Harold commented, "Music to my old ears." He smirked. "Now, give Harold a smooch."

"No," said Poppy.  
"Okay."

"H o t D o g," said Nate, sliding onto the old man's lap. He made that crumpling sound hay does.

"How are you doing that? He's standing up."

"He's hard."

Nick looked down to see Nate straddling Harold's penis.

Wrinkled lips moved in for a smooch. It was a cheek seeking missile. The old fuck planted one right on Nate's splinter hole.

"Woah mama!" Nick groaned, grabbing his metal ass.

Harold pulled away with a slurp. A string of hay and spit and wood chips still connecting them.

"It was nothing," the detective insisted. "But do it again."

Again, Harold laid one on Nate, french kissing the wound.

"Yabadabadoo!"

"Nick, will you tell us what's going on?"

"It is my detective expertise that you're cheek is a magic glory hole."

"Your*," corrected Poppy.

"What?"

Valentine nodded. "It acts as a portal straight to my butthole."

They continued the act for another few minutes before Poppy reminded them of the storm.

“Uh, guys, remember the rad storm? Or were you too busy smooch the cooch to realize?”

Oh fuck! Radiation! They all scramble inside, Nate still clinging to Harold and Nick clenching his butt cheeks.

They went to the front of the church and sat on the floor.

“Nate, Poppy, I thought you two were dead.”

“We were for a little while, honey.”

Nate gave him another woody smooch and Nick jumped.

“So, what's there on the other side?”

Nate, Poppy, and Nick (He was dead until he got put in his new sexy body) slowly turned towards Harold and looked him deep in the eyes. Then, in unison, they answered.

“There. Is. NOTHING!”

A bolt of radioactive lighting hit a sad looking tree outside and the thunder caused Harold to dive onto his straw tummy.

“Oh...”

Nick started squirming and then he sat up really fast.

“Uh, guys, I didn't realize before, but we are in a church. You know what that gets me thinking of?”

“The lord?”

“Marriage. I feel you two should marry me after our little ordeal.”

“Why, a fuck is a fuck. Why we gotta marry you?”

“Because of this!”

Nick pointed to his left butt cheek. It was slightly larger than normal.

“I've got a bun in my oven and you two planted the seed. Now, dick work doesn't pay as much as the movies would like you to think they do so I am gonna need you two dickwads to cough up some dough and pamper me.”

The Harold & Nate combo walked over and started rubbing the pregnant cheek.

“I can feel it kick!”

Nick's kicking ass!

Poppy rummaged through her bag and pulled out a Bible.

“I kept this for aesthetic reasons, but I don't see why I can't marry you three right here and now.”

They stood up. The combo and Nick stood together while Poppy stood in front of them.

“Oh, Lord! He who is watching us today, please descend from your mighty throne and wed these three love birds in a super triple bond with extra cheese and no pickle. Well, they will need their pickles for tonight. So, make it a super triple with extra cheese with a side of lubed condoms!”

The storm got stronger, God's presence clearly made.

“Now that He is here, we may begin. Do you, Nick, wonderful pregnant robo-man, take The Harold & Nate combo to be your lawfully wedded husbands?”

“I d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-dahhhhhhhhh rrrrr eeee beraw beraw beeep boooop DO!”

“I'll take that as a 'yes'. Do you, The Harold & Nate combo, take Nick to be your lawfully wedded Wonderful Pregnant Robo-man husband?”

“We do!”

“Wonderful! You may kiss the...uh, husbands.”

They all leaned in for a three way kiss. The butthole got kissed and Nick's jaw slammed down, taking away half of Harold's face. Harold ran outside in pain. But, the radiation from the storm was mighty too strong and he instantly turned to dust, causing Nate to fall on his ass.

“Nooooooo! Harold!”

Nick dragged Nate inside and closed the door.

“Nick, you asshole! You killed him!”

“Hey, he was the one who kissed my delicate hole!”

“Nick Valentine, I hereby sentence you into the hole!”

"What hole?"

Nate grabbed Nick by the shoulders.  
"I like where this is going."

Nate cocked his leg, as far back as humanly possible, and kicked Nick. The force sent the robot flying to the other side of the church, and into the hole in the wall. "This is where naughty robots spend eternity!" Nate said, as he slowly bricked the wall shut.

Nick watched as Nate built the wall over his only exit. Other than his butthole, I mean.

Nick casually stepped out of the wall.  
"No! Back in the wall, Valentine!"

"You're going to make me?"

The Nate nodded.  
"You and what army."

"The United States Army."

Nick looked confused.

Suddenly, thousands of soldiers poured into the church. God Bless the U.S. of the Fuckin' A right. As an American flag slowly descended from the ceiling, flapping wildly (like it does on the moon). The national anthem blared from places unknown.

Yank his Doodle went to town

A-riding on a pony,

Stuck a feather in his cap

And called it macaroni

  
  


Yank his Doodle keep it up,

Yank his Doodle Dandy

Mind the music and the step,

And with the girls be handy.

  
  


"What just a fucking! second." Yelled someone. I really don't care at this point.

"!"

"That's not the national anthem!"

Oh.

O! say can you see, by the dawn's early light,  
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming,  
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight,  
O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?  
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,  
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there;  
O! say does that star-spangled banner yet wave  
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?  
  
  
  


(Just so you know, this thing goes on forever. There's a part about God. I wanted to make it about Gob. However, I think it's technically illegal to alter this thing, for some reason. I could be fined $100, and a hundred buckeroos I do not have. So, just keep Gob in mind while reading it.)

(Government, if you're reading this: Give me kudos, please. Ram those kudos right up my sphincter. My rendition of the Star Spangled Banner was going to be my swan song, and you took that from me. Also... What are you wearin'? )

  
  


All of the buff, young, barely legal, 18 year old, meathead sluts washed Nick Valentine back into the wall cave thing.

"This is the hottest thing to ever happen to me!" Nick said, crushed against a wall and like 600 hot sweaty young men.

Finally, Nate bricked him in. Sweating, and panting, he turned to Poppy. Next to her, Hancock.

"Hey," Nate began. "You wanna be our new bald ugly friend in a stupid hat?"

"Sure."

“Has the storm cleared?”

“Looks like it, wanna go?”

“Yeah, I have a holler to run.”

The three locked arms and skipped away into the sunset.


End file.
